


Darkness, Lace, Wings

by sv_you_know_who_I_am



Series: A Court of War and Starlight One-Shots [14]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sv_you_know_who_I_am/pseuds/sv_you_know_who_I_am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feyre and Rhys have just been married, and they’ve finally broken away from the celebrations long enough to partake of the fruits of their union.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness, Lace, Wings

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after the Epilogue of “A Court of War and Starlight,” but besides a couple of minor references and the fact that they’re married, there are no spoilers and you can read it alone.

 

We had been dancing all night. Dancing among our friends and family, celebrating the new world that we had bled and fought and died for. There was an abundance of food and wine and the sky was magnificent. But despite the star spirits cascading through the night and the beauty of everyone surrounding us, I had eyes for only one person.

Rhysand. My husband.

I had thought at first that ‘husband’ would seem too _mortal_ for him, and right up until we had left the altar together I had been unconvinced that I would enjoy calling him by that title. But the first time it had left my lips--“You’re my husband, now”--it had felt _right_. Though no matter what I actually called him he would always be one thing:

Mine.

Everyone pretended not to notice when Rhys and I slipped away to our bedchambers far above the festivities. The rooms were so high up in the mountain that the sounds of the celebrations below and throughout the city were faint, offering only a small, distant melody to the slightly gusting wind.

Once we were in our room, I stepped out onto the balcony and gazed out at the falling spirits, enjoying the peaceful aura of them without the loud noise of the party downstairs.

Rhys stepped up behind me and brushed a stray lock of hair that had fallen from my elaborate style away from my shoulder. He kissed the skin where my neck met my shoulder. “This is everything I could have ever asked for,” he said, pressing the side of his face against my cheek and lacing one hand through the tattooed fingers of mine. “ _Feyre_.” His voice caressed my name, molding it into a song, a heartbeat . . .

His left hand rose and cradled my jaw, two fingers weaving into the hair above my ear. He held my face securely and coaxed my head to the side, exposing the slender line of my neck to him. His nose brushed the skin at the hinge of my jaw and his lips followed to hover at my throat. “Feyre,” he breathed again, and a tremor ran through my limbs. “My wife.”

I had been equally as unsure about being called his wife when I had become so accustomed to being called his mate, but any shred of doubt flew out the ends of my fingers as he lifted our interlocked hands and pressed my own palm against the bare skin revealed by the plunging neckline of my wedding dress. Warmth seeped from his palm into my hand as he guided it in soothing circles along my abdomen. He continued nuzzling and kissing my neck and ear as he held my hand captive with his. Then he started leading my hand lower, beneath the waistband of my dress, and I snatched my hand away.

“No, no, Your Majesty,” I said as I whirled away from him, putting my back to the railing and looking at him mischievously. “You’re not going to take my fun away.”

The disappointment in his face was banished by a flicker of wicked delight. “Oh?” he purred, leaning in to snatch a kiss from my lips. I thought I might tip over the balcony from the seduction in it.

I nodded, looking up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this, you know.” I slid around him and dragged my hand along his broad chest, unclipping his massive cloak as I went and gathering it into my arms. Then I strode back into the bedroom, leaving Rhys on the balcony behind me. I could feel him devouring the skin of my back, visible through my dress.

I casually tossed the cloak over an armchair and looked back at him. “Don’t you want to see your surprise?”

Rhys grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Surprise?”

“Of course. We’ve only just been married. I still have to keep you on your toes.” I cocked my head and watched him stiffen as I used magic to loudly undo the zipper on the back of my dress.

“Darling!” Rhys cried, seeming distressed. “Are you really going to deprive me the pleasure?”

“You won’t be deprived of anything, you Illyrian baby,” I crooned. I slid the straps on each shoulder off and the gown slipped away into a puddle of night at my ankles, revealing the set of lingerie he had eyed in our favorite store across the Sidra but had not known I had purchased.

The skin around Rhys’s mouth when pale and his eyes widened. “Mother bless you,” he breathed. “Feyre.” He took several quick steps across the room closer to me, but then he fell down on his knees before me, looking joyously tormented--ravenous. His eyes scanned my body in the lingerie I wore: four narrow black straps ran from my hips all the way up my breasts and over my shoulders; my nipples were covered by small black lace petals; the straps hooked into a set of bands over a garter belt that left a little lace window to reveal the skin below my navel; suspenders then attached to lace hose, revealing the skin of my upper thighs.

Rhys just stared at me speechless for a long moment. His hand hovered in the air between us as though he was afraid to touch me. His lips were slightly parted and I could see his breath already becoming ragged.

“Have I rendered the King of Prythian speechless?” I asked. My voice was light, but my stomach was twisting in knots. What if he didn’t like it as much as he’d thought?

Rhys ran both hands through his hair and shook his head. “Feyre . . . you ruin me.” He let out a hoarse laugh and swallowed. “I don’t even know where I want to begin. All I know is that I want every piece of you . . . I just haven’t quite decided which course I’d like first.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the bare skin above my garter belt. I shuddered and then tensed as his lips dropped to kiss each of my inner thighs.

I became wet at once. I had already been anticipating this--in fact, I’d been aching for him for hours, but now that he was so close to me and I was so bare before him . . .

He let out a low growl of satisfaction when he smelled me, and his hand reached out to start working on the various buckles that held my ensemble together.

I caught his hands with mine. “Let me introduce you to the menu, shall I?” I drew him up to his feet and guided him over to the chair on which I had set his cloak. He let out a soft grunt as I straddled his lap, causing the various straps to go loose and taut in different places. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but this time he aimed for the skin just above my heart, which was already beginning to race. “Feyre . . .” he breathed against my skin.

I rolled my hips and he went stiff.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered. I could feel the tension and desire coming off of him in waves, but I would take my time tonight. My trembling fingers started to work the toggles holding his tunic closed, and every time I finished a row, I rolled my hips against him--each time a little harder.

Then I felt him--hard as rock beneath me. My own self-control was slipping. I wanted to ride him now, but I also wanted to draw this out as long as I could. Rhys’s hands had latched onto my waist. His jaw was tight and his eyes were closed as I rocked against him, nothing but his pants and a tiny scrap of lace between us. My body temperature was soaring and so was his.

At last I finished all the buttons and I roughly pushed the tunic from his shoulders. The moment it had dropped heavily to the floor, I lunged forward and closed my mouth around the skin where his neck met his shoulder, never ceasing the movement of my hips as I licked and nipped at my husband’s neck. Rhys’s hands had slid beneath the straps over my breasts and were kneading both of them. I languished in the flashes of pain as he pinched them in his fingers, drawing my nipples to peaks and causing the straps to strain over the heaviness of them. “Rhys,” I gasped as I lavished kisses over his throat. “Rhys, I love you.”

The world shifted abruptly as Rhys wrapped an arm around my back and stood to his feet. I instinctively latched my legs around his back, but even as he strode across the room, I did not stop humping him or wishing he was sheathed inside me.

The next thing I knew, I was on top of the silken coverlet on the bed, completely covered by Rhysand’s body as he pressed himself flush against me and started kissing me fiercely. Each inhale of breath he made through his nose wound me tighter, and I was drowning in the taste of him, the perfection of his kisses. My hands tangled in his hair and held him as close as I could. Every inch of my skin was dedicated to feeling him, as though there was nothing else in the entire world.

We were an explosion of teeth and fingers and tongues. Our hips bumped against each other and I was on fire with my want for him. I could not breathe enough to form words, and even when Rhys pulled away to trail kisses down my throat, I could only gasp into the cool air of the dark room.

I felt his teeth graze the skin of my shoulder and I realized through the haze of lust that he had taken the straps between his teeth and dragged them off my shoulder, taking the lace petal along with them. His mouth closed around my nipple, teasing and tugging and licking as I arched my back against him. He repeated the movements on my other side, and I was liquid as he caressed my breast with his tongue.

He drew back and I whimpered, grasping for him with frantic fingers. He laughed in his throat and pushed me back down onto the bed as he began working the buckles of my garter at last. “You’re delicious, Feyre,” he growled. “I’m going to eat you like I never have before--until you’re screaming for me . . . until my name is the only word you know.”

I moaned and writhed, but he held my thighs down with his hands, urging them to stillness before he threw the buckles aside and slowly rolled the belt and my lace underwear down around my thighs. I let him control where my legs went as he slowly peeled them away from me. He left the lace stockings. Then he surveyed my body, the wild desire on his face so arousing I pressed my thighs together to keep from losing control right then.

“No, no,” Rhys said, flashing a wicked grin. He grabbed my thighs and forced them apart so that I was spread wide before him. I reached over my head and grasped the rail of the headboard for security.

Rhys locked eyes with me and then place his finger in his mouth, slowly drawing it out again without looking away from me. Then he gave a devious smirk and ran his moistened finger up the center of me, pausing on the cluster of nerves between my thighs. “Say my name, Feyre,” he said, applying the slightest pressure.

“Rhys,” I gasped. He pressed down further, igniting the fire in my blood even further and causing me to squirm.

“Again,” he commanded.

“Rhys,” I said. He stroked me there and teased me exactly the way he knew I liked it. My mind was full of explosions of pleasure, light and sound and scent--I could hardly make sense of anything as he worked me so expertly.

“Say it one more time,” he said. He had applied more fingers and was rubbing me fiercely, so much that I couldn’t find a single word in my entire mind. I choked out a whimper. “Feyre, darling,” he said. “ _Again_.”

He flicked me in exactly the right way and I moaned as I broke around him. “ _Rhys_!” I cried, throwing my head back as I shuddered through the waves of pleasure. “Rhys, please--please, more . . .” My chest was heaving but I was nowhere near done with him yet, not when he’d made so many promises.

“First,” he said, stroking me and gathering my slickness on his fingers. “I want you to have the first taste.” He leaned over me until his violet eyes were burning into mine. His hand rose near my mouth, and at the tilt of his chin I opened my mouth and let him slide his fingers in. I tasted _myself_ , the headiness of me, as I sucked on his fingers. He drew away long before I was done, but he replaced his hand with his mouth and kissed me deeply, mingling our tastes and swirling his tongue around mine. He drew himself away again, and this time I was too wrung out to attempt to chase after him.

“You’re radiant, my love,” he sighed, and I watched as he lowered himself down and began to lick away the slickness that had built up between my legs. He started with slow, luxurious strokes with his tongue, and I felt him breathe in the scent of me. I shifted to guide his path but he only chuckled and licked the inside of each of my thighs. Finally, he pressed his lips over my opening and sucked.

I let out a strangled cry as his kisses and the slight scraping of his teeth pushed me closer and closer to another precipice. His pace increased, and he had not been lying when he said he would eat me like he never had before. He was ferocious, nipping and licking and devouring me until the pounding between my legs was a dull roar. He plunged his tongue inside me and that was when I broke, crying out his name again as I tumbled over the edge.

And he wasn’t near done. Again, and again he worked me, doing everything he knew I loved and some new things that he hadn’t tried before. I came again, and then he snatched me by the hips and drew my legs up until the small of my back was curled and I was opened like a blooming flower before him. He pressed his face into my folds and I bucked against his mouth as one last dam burst within me and I went totally limp in his arms.

He looked up from between my thighs, eyes shining. “How do you feel, love?” he asked.

I couldn’t even answer. I only let out a soft whimper, and he gently lowered my legs back to the bed. “Rhys,” I finally choked out.

He laughed and slid up alongside me to cradle me against his chest. He slipped under me and made a bed for me from his muscular chest. “Mission accomplished,” he said. I raised my eyebrows and he said, “My name is the only word you know right now, isn’t it?” I huffed out a little breath and let my head fall against his chest.

His fingers idly undid clips in my hair and my curls came tumbling down around us, spreading across his tattooed chest. He laid sweet kisses along my cheeks, the corners of my mouth, until I was nuzzled closer to him, listening to his heartbeat pound in my ears. My hand traced along the black marks on his chest and then traveled down his ribs to the band of his pants. I gave them a slight tug.

“I’m very unhappy that you’re still wearing these,” I muttered, kissing his chest. I tugged at his pants again.

“Oh, you remember how to talk,” Rhys said with a grin. I pinched him and he squirmed beneath me. He laughed and said, “I cannot have my wife being unhappy on this, our wedding night.” He lifted my head so that I was looking at him. “Tell me what you want, darling, and I will give you anything you heart desires.”

I smirked and perched my chin between his pectoral muscles. “I want to feel for myself just how sensitive Illyrian wings are,” I purred, and he sucked in a sharp breath beneath me. “And then . . . then I want you to bend me over and fuck me from behind until I’m glowing so bright that everyone thinks the sun came up three hours early.” Not removing my gaze from him, I let my wings unfurl behind me and watched his eyes go wide with hunger.

“Your wish is my command,” he rasped.

The world became a blur as he hooked his arm around my waist and flipped me over so that I was on my knees and bracing myself against the headboard. There was a lot of shifting on the bed and I knew Rhys was removing his pants. I growled because I couldn’t see, but he only laughed.

Then my spine went ramrod straight. Rhys’s fingers drifted over the membrane of my wings, and the thrill that went through my body was nothing short of glorious. He spread his palms wide and stroked my wings in one long pass across each wing. I shivered and bit my lip. “Cauldron boil me,” I muttered, ducking my head and gritting my teeth. Then he curled his fingers and dragged the tips of his nails across them. This time, my torso seized and I felt heat pool in my core.

“Do you like it?” Rhys murmured. I could picture the wicked look on his face, even though I couldn’t see it.

“Yes,” I breathed.

I felt him rise up on his knees behind me, and his hand dipped down beneath my torso to cup my hanging breasts in his hands and pinch my nipples between his fingers. Then his hands slid up to hold my waist and he kissed my back where my wings joined my flesh.

The fire began to leak out of me and Rhys adjusted both of us, running a hand up between my legs to feel my readiness. “Feyre,” he sighed. He placed slight pressure on my lower back, and then he entered me.

I let out a long, sensuous moan as he filled me, moving in so deep that I felt him in my core. He paused once we were joined, and he brushed some hair off of my back. “All right, my love?” he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded. He chuckled and pulled out, leaving me gasping, before he struck again, harder and even deeper. I ground my hips against his and he snarled in pleasure.

Our mutual desire was climbing up a mountain and soon we would be at the peak, and our eagerness increased our need and our pace. He started to move within me faster and harder until my grip on the headboard was painful. He thrust deep into me again and again and again, until tears of pleasure streamed down my face and the whole bed creaked and groaned from our frenzy.

“My--mate,” Rhys grunted as he pounded into me. “My--queen. My . . . you’re my _wife_.” He slammed in until I fractured and burst into a triumphant glow while the pleasure rocked me. I started to lose my grip on the headboard, but Rhys gathered me into his arms and turned me over to hold me against his torso, still rolling his hips and staring deep into my eyes as he finished inside me. His lips and teeth dragged up the side of my neck until he nibbled on my earlobe.

When we had both exhausted ourselves, I slumped against him and let him hold me upright, running one hand along the skin of my back and lavishing my neck with kisses. My forehead pressed into his shoulder and my fingertips brushed his wings--I hadn’t realized until now that he had brought them out.

Once we had both caught some of our breath, Rhys lowered both of our sweat-slicked bodies onto the bed, gazing at my glow with such a look of love that I flared brighter. “You are everything I ever wanted,” Rhys murmured to me, kissing the tip of my nose.

“I never gave myself the luxury of imagining a husband for myself,” I said. “That was for Elain and Nesta. But . . . even if I had imagined, even if I had ever dreamed . . . my dreams would have never compared to you.”

Rhys squeezed me tight and kissed my forehead. “I’ll never stop being thankful that I get you to myself for the rest of eternity.”

“And beyond,” I said, brushing my fingers along the crest of his ear.

“And beyond,” Rhys agreed. Then he kissed me, and I was filled to overflowing by the one to whom I’d bound my soul in every way . . . and from whom I would never part.


End file.
